


Enthusiasm

by Zofiecfield



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Smut, early wayhaught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zofiecfield/pseuds/Zofiecfield
Summary: Waverly finds herself enthusiastic, and is delighted.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 4
Kudos: 106





	Enthusiasm

_Approach with enthusiasm and you can’t go wrong._

You’d heard that somewhere, long before this became a reality, before it was even a possibility to consider. You took it to heart, tucked it away, a nugget of information for a life you weren’t living.

Yet.

Now, a year later, maybe two, it comes back to you. Reality has caught up, and damn.

The evening wasn’t supposed to lead to this. _This_ had barely been on your radar. Slow kisses and lingering hands, hours since she intended to head home, time slipping by under fingertips, and you find yourself here. Unexpected, but a welcome progression. You find yourself here and, by all indications, _wanted_. 

You have explored plenty tonight and other nights, this terrain that is still novel but growing pleasantly familiar, favorite places to revisit and new avenues to enjoy. Her lips, her tongue, your lips, your tongue. 

You wandered along her, content. Neck and graceful collar bones, sensitive ribs and soft breasts to be lavished, honored slowly. Lips across the gentle curve of belly, tongue and teeth to responsive skin, taut across the crest of hips. 

You wander slowly and with no destination intended, wandering for the sake of wandering, to be close to her, to know her. You wander with no destination, and arrive on the border, destination unexpectedly found. 

You arrive here content to amble along, but as you linger at this boundary between know and unknown, you are no longer content. Now you want. Adventure beckons, exploration calls. 

Other nights, you’ve touched with fingertips, palm glancing, straddled and ground against, pressure sought, given and got. But this, now, is new and different. A first. Enthusiasm stirs, low in your gut.

Each step further feels right, confirmed by her sighs and yes and good. You could turn back at any point and the night would be no less cherished, no less warm and soft. But you have no desire to turn back and she welcomes you to continue. 

Your knees hit the rug, her thighs draped over the edge of the bed to flank you. 

A year ago, hell, two months ago, you would have anticipated doubt, embarrassment, nerves. You would have been self-conscious just at the thought of this. She’s been here before, with other women, many times and with earned confidence. You are growing bold and a quick study, but acutely aware of your newness, still finding your footing. 

But now, here with her, hesitation abandons you and you are, unexpectedly, pure enthusiasm. Eager and so, _so_ curious.

Fingertips graze the crease of her thighs, spread and inviting, shivers running through her. Grip hips and heavy palms drag down thighs, nails drifting back up the sensitive inside. Her breath is catching and your enthusiasm is delighted.

You wonder vaguely how thin the walls of this old house are. You’re not sure you care.

Always a studious head, an intrepid heart, you lose yourself in this. You forget to overthink. New information to interpret and absorb, new exploration to savor. The text of her to be read and reread, paraphrased and sequels written.

She’s keening and she could use a bit of weight to steady her. It pleases you. Graze your thumbs across the sharp arches of her pelvis, plant one kiss to her low belly. Hold her down just a little as her hips jump, funnel her focus to a sharp point. Tip of tongue as it slips through her, fast and feather-light, flat of tongue as it drags, slow and heavy. 

Meticulous experimentation, driven now by impulse, as eloquence escapes her entirely. Search for new sounds of wanting, draw them from her and catalog them away.

She’s been waiting and so have you. 

Find the spot, just a quick lick to test the waters, a gentle kiss to ready you both. A little more now, suck it in between your lips, roll it over your tongue on an inhale. Catch her off guard. Once more then move on, explore and taste and tease, return to hear that gasp again, to see her arch off the bed. Taste and sip and savor.

Each sigh and moan, each stuttered breath, the shift and arching, thighs starting to clench and shiver. They melt together in your head, recorded not as singular moments, but as a slow burn of intriguing and good god. An enthusiastic call and response. Hands clutching sheets, forgetting themselves and burying in your hair.

The shear pleasure of this. 

You have long believed an ice cream cone is best enjoyed with a free tongue and clear head, savor the sweetness, catch the drips. Extrapolate that principle a bit, and here you are, delighted and satisfied, buried in her as she breathes your name, a laugh caught halfway out by a gasp as you flick your tongue over her and pull her in again.

You are, quite suddenly, aware of your body’s response to this, to the intimacy and vulnerability of you both, to her sighs and pleasure writhing. It’s overwhelming to be trusted like this, to be wanted like this. If your lips weren’t otherwise occupied, you might moan along with her. You might sigh her name too. Perhaps later, when she isn’t panting and climbing higher under your tongue, you’ll dwell on these thoughts, lean into them and savor.

A pleasure to see her lost in pleasure. A pleasure to be responsible for the losing. 

Ebb and flow, tide coaxed slowly to its peak, not to be hurried. Carry her up, over, crashing down. Coast to a finish, shivers and shallow breaths now, as fingers comfort and tongue soothes.

Straddle her hips and let her pull you close, wrap her arms around you. Kiss her hard and laugh to bring yourselves back to full consciousness. 

Whisper to her so she knows. This was an honor and a pleasure. 

Now that you know, the taste of her on your tongue, the sound of her sighing your name, you are even more enthusiastic than you were when you started. Eager for the next time, and the next. 

To savor her, an absolute pleasure.


End file.
